


Colossal Wonders, Small Sparks

by Book_buried_Batter



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Added some random OCs to make plot happen, Also Joey is kind of an ass and Henry's really soft-spoken, Don't pay attention to the chapter numbers ao3 added, Grant's voice..... good for singing, Hm... wonder what happened to everybody...., I don't know if I want to keep it going tho please help, I really don't even know if this should be tagged as a ship but here we are, Joey stop talking challenge, M/M, Soft man soft voice, THERE! IS! A! DOG! NOW!, Wally has one brain cell, but I love him anyway, cw transphobia, do you hate Joey yet, it's not bad i promise, it's super slight tho, just putting a tag in for a warning, or where it's going, please hate joey, slight body horror, some minor injuries later on, some very slight nsfw, they are wrong because I stockpile chapters to post, this is lowkey turning into a crackship, uhhhhh I don't know what I'm doing with this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2019-11-01 05:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17861405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Book_buried_Batter/pseuds/Book_buried_Batter
Summary: While work has already begun on a Bendy-themed amusement park, Henry finds it a bit strange that his business partner still hasn't properly introduced him to the man behind all of the attractions. It becomes even more frustrating when the day he finally does decide that it would be a good idea, both are caught up in their own stubborn ways, hardly getting anything accomplished at all. But after hours, Drew isn't paying particular attention to who goes where, and who knows? Maybe the animator and the designer will hit it off





	1. Chapter One: Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> Look man, I have no idea what I'm doing. My stupid hellbrain had an idea and it just sort of happened. I really don't know if I'm going to continue this, but if I do, I'd love to have an idea of where to go with it, so like... I appreciate any feedback y'all can give.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry for the garbage formatting. I tried, it is very late

“C’mon, Henry, it’s important for you to meet the man behind the park! Everything’s in the likeness of your creation, after all!” Joey spoke as he led Henry out of the lift in the lowest parts of the studio. The “development levels”, Joey called them fondly.  
“I understand that, what I don’t get is-” The shorter man started, but was interrupted when Joey began to speak again.  
“We’re making dreams come true, don’t you see? We’re making these cartoons larger than life!” He gestured wide with his arms, hitting the wall with the stack of papers in his right hand without meaning to. He threw a glance back over his shoulder, deep blue eyes sparkling. “Isn’t it exciting?”  
All Henry could do was offer a fake smile and nod. He knew there was no stopping Joey once his mind was set on something, even if the animator didn’t agree with it. In this particular case… it was an amusement park. It wasn’t something unheard of, but between the renovations needed to make room for the development levels and the money it would cost to purchase enough land to accommodate anything when it was finished… Henry knew it was going to be a steep bill.  
The pair mounted a flight of stairs in an otherwise empty room after navigating a maze of different hallways with pallets of different materials scattered around them. At the top, the first thing Henry noticed was the massive, gaping maw of a hollowed out Bendy head. The head itself, looking to be made of many metal plates, had to be at least two stories tall, the interior lit by a few coverless pendant lights. Under the lights were two plywood tables, cork boards not far from them covered in papers depicting plans and different concept sketches for the park.  
Standing in front of one of the cork boards with his back to them was a man at least a foot taller than Henry himself, dressed in a black tailcoat and pressed black slacks. His dark brown hair had been slicked back, not a single one out of place. His shoes had been covered in dirt by the unfinished floors throughout the prototype park, but that seemed to be the only imperfection about him.  
Joey cleared his throat, causing the man to turn around. He had one thick eyebrow raised, but was soon scowling at the sight of the other man. Cheery as ever, Joey didn’t seem to care. “Bertie! What’s the big project today, hm?”  
Bertrum’s lip pulled up into a sneer, the comb mustache on his upper lip shifting as his expression changed. “Today’s project is the same project as yesterday’s. And last week’s. And the week’s before that. Unless it was finished, Mister Drew, which I would have notified you about, why would it be any different? Not all of just have the flexibility to jump from one idea to the next each day.” His voice rumbled, seeming to fill the extra space.  
“Oh, well, I just figured I should ask! See how things were going! What did you think of my bumper car design?” Joey leaned on the table with one arm, making it lift slightly at the other end.  
“Frankly they’re far too similar to my design for the carts in the haunted house. If I ever get to bumper cars, I can assure you, they will not look like that.” Bertrum pointed behind him to the table without looking. His statement, though, caught Henry off guard. It wasn’t every day that someone was that blunt with Joey, especially about something he wanted.  
“Oh. Well… What about my idea for the swing ride? You got that sketch, right?” Joey tried again.  
At that moment, Bertrum turned on his heel, taking one stride to the tables. Across the top sat a small scale model of what Henry could only guess was the proposed layout of the new park. He folded his hands behind his back, puffing out his chest and making himself look just that much bigger. Henry found himself taking a half-step back from both of them.  
“Mister Drew,” He began, “If I were to squeeze in any new rides, you would have to fit in another two acres or more of land, depending on what half-brained idea it is you tried to cook up, and I’ve already warned you, this is going to break the bank as it is. You cannot bring in any new designs and if I’m being quite honest with you, I do not want them. I can make up my own sketches, thank you very much, and I can draw them to scale to work as a real attractions. If I need absolutely anything from you, I can assure you, you will know.”  
The way Bertrum spoke sent a shiver up Henry’s spine and he was sure he could see the light leave Joey’s eyes, even through his smile.  
Joey let out a low chuckle, holding his papers out for Henry. “Here. Hold onto those for me, will you?” After Henry took them, Joey moved to the table and started to try and reason with the designer. Just by the way he spoke, Henry could tell it was going to be a very long afternoon.  
*****  
After two yelling matches, two different requests for coffee from both taller men and about three hours, Joey finally decided he’d had enough of Bertrum and started to lead Henry back upstairs. It was only in the lift back to the main levels that Joey seemed to come to some sort of realization.  
“Oh! Shit, Henry, I didn’t even introduce you! That’s the whole reason we went down there!” He slapped himself on the forehead with the palm of his hand.  
The animator decided to just play it off like it was nothing, for his own sake. “Oh, that’s alright. We’ll have other times to go down there. Besides, it looked like you had a lot to talk to him about anyway.”  
Slowly, Joey nodded. “You know… you’re right. I did have a lot to cover with him. And it’s already awful late! You have some fill work to finish before the day’s out!” The lift slowed then, stopping shortly after. Joey plucked his papers from Henry’s arms, briskly making his way down the hall. “Back to work!”  
With a sigh and a slow shake of his head, Henry simply went back to his own desk to settle in and finish his work for the day.  
*****  
The clock in the break room had read ten to five the most recent time he checked it, not long ago. The rest of the studio had mostly fallen quiet by then, most of the other employees readying themselves to go home. Henry, though, was just getting started; With a fresh cup of black coffee, his tie loosened and his suspenders shrugged off of his shoulders, he was just getting ready to clock out, but not leave quite yet. Heavy, even footsteps down the hall from his desk didn’t pull his attention away from the sketches in front of him, but a voice he recognized from earlier did.  
“Pardon me, but I was sent in this direction for one Henry Stein, head of animation. Will you please just show me who it is I’m supposed to be going to?” Bertrum snapped.  
Henry turned quickly, pen still in hand, and blinked. He found himself scrambling for a response under the intense gaze. “I… Well, um… Y-yeah, that’s, um… That’s me. I-I’m Henry Stein.” He managed, but not at full volume.  
Bertrum’s eyebrows shot up in shock, his eyes widening. “You? It’s you that’s in charge of all of this?” At that, Henry could only nod, looking sheepish. The response caused the designer to curse. “The way Drew treated you made me think you were his intern! My deepest apologies, sir.” He put a hand to his chest, bowing his head ever so slightly.  
Henry let out an awkward laugh. “Oh, it’s alright! He does it all the time, I don’t really blame you.”  
Now the other’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “That certainly doesn’t seem right. He wouldn’t even have a job if it weren’t for you.”  
“Try telling that to him. I certainly have.” He hastily waved off the conversation. “Did you need something from me?”  
“Ah, just this.” He held out a stack of sketches on gridded paper, all covered in notes. “I trust your judgement than Drew’s, seeing as this cartoon devil is your creation. Not to mention, after our encounter today, I would be dead before I asked him his opinion on my park. I assumed you would be gone by now so I would just be leaving those at your workspace. Please, look over them at your leisure.”  
“Oh! Uhm, alright… What, uh… What, exactly, do you want me to do with them? Do you need my input, or…” Henry carefully took the papers, making sure not to set them in the wet ink.  
“I want to know what you think. Drew’s designs are… childish, at best, and while entertaining young children is a main goal of a theme park, it is supposed to be a family experience. The more the parents enjoy themselves as well, the more likely it will be that we have returning visitors.”  
“That actually makes a lot of sense…” He began flipping through some of the pages, tilting his head as he did. “...What’s the theme supposed to be here? I-I mean… Obviously it’s Bendy, but… Are we going more for fun or horror? Because that’s what this looks like.” His gaze flicked back up to Bertrum. “No offence! These designs are great! I just don’t know if they match my cartoon at all.”  
“Ah. I wish you had said something earlier, then. My teams have already started prototyping some of this.”  
“I would have if I’d seen them, sorry if it’s caused you any-”  
“What do you mean, if you’d seen them?! Drew was supposed to have gotten you to sign off on-” He thundered, then stopped when he realized he’d made Henry flinch. “Were you not shown any of this?”  
“No sir, this afternoon was the first I’d seen anything come from that park at all. I just knew it was there, Joey never wanted me to go down to see.”  
“That’s ridiculous. That means he hasn’t even gone over any of our plans with you, damn fool…”  
Henry glanced back at his drawings, then shifted in his chair to face the other more easily. “If you’d like to discuss some of it now, I’d be more than happy to know what’s going on with the company I own half of.” He indicated the extra chair not far from him with his hand, offering for Bertrum to sit down.  
“If that’s quite all right with you, I would be happy to.” Smoothing down the front of his coat, Bertrum took a seat.  
“My, um… my first question is, uh… What’s your actual name? You just really don’t look like someone who should be called Bertie to me.”  
His mustache twitched as the corners of his lips turned up. “Of course I don’t! I am Bertrum Piedmont! Drew insists on this demeaning nickname of his, I can’t begin to explain why.”  
Henry gave another awkward laugh. “Yeah…. That’s Joey for you…”  
*****  
Far, far past the time that Henry was supposed to have already been at home relaxing, he was still sitting at his desk, but he wasn’t alone. At some point, his conversation with Bertrum had turned from being about work to about life. Despite what he had thought at first, it was fairly easy to make Bertrum laugh, and goodness knew he needed it, the animator could tell. That had to be the case, since Henry never counted himself as someone very humorous.  
When Bertrum finally gathered himself to leave, it was only because of Henry’s promise to come check on his work more regularly, despite what Joey said. In return, Bertrum promised that any trouble Henry got in for it, he would handle directly. Even with the sketches still not fully lined or filled, Henry didn’t have the energy to keep working. He put everything on his desk in order, storing the ink and switching the last of the lights off on his way out.


	2. Chapter Two: Poetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just how clueless can one animator be?

“So with the design the way it is, the person playing the mascot wouldn't really be able to see…” Henry pointed to a sketch in his hand, walking through the warehouse with Bertrum just behind him. “What we could do is change the material in the eyes and make the mask smaller, which would also get this a little closer to the actual model…”

“That may be better than what we have, and possibly cheaper, as well.” Bertrum responded. “We already have a few prototypes in, just back here.” He pointed the animator towards a small room behind some of the game booths.

The room itself was small, with only enough room in it for two or three people at a time. It was dimly lit, as well, only one fluorescent light pinned to the wall with wires exposed. The light, as well as the dirt floor, told Henry that the room was far from finished. Though that’s not what Bertrum wanted him to see; No, the attraction of the room was pinned to the wall, and laid out on the small metal workbench against the wall. Three prototype mascot suits with massive heads and mesh mouths hung from hooks on the wall, one sitting up on the bench. At the sight of them, Henry felt a shiver go up his spine.

“These are… uhm, creepy.” He carefully voiced. “Just, you know… just saying! If I think it’s creepy, kids may not like it…” He justified soon after.

At his tone, Bertrum gave him a strange look. “Don’t be so nervous, your feedback is very important. I was afraid that would be the case, my team just did what was simple at the time. I’ll get them your newer design and hopefully that will yield a more… friendly mascot.” He placed a hand on Henry’s shoulder, causing the shorter man to flinch ever so slightly. “I’ll let you know when we get them in.”

“Are… you going to tell Joey about this?” Henry asked as Bertrum led him away from the room again.

Bertrum waved his hand. “Drew doesn’t know they’re here to begin with, he won’t know I’ve had them switched.”

Henry relaxed ever so slightly. “Good… That’s good.”

“You know, Henry,” Bertrum began, turning to him. “I was thinking about perhaps having other mascots, seeing as you have more than one character. I’ve drawn up concepts for them, if you’d like to look at them.” He paused, but before Henry could reply, he started speaking again. “I know you’re a very busy man, so perhaps we could discuss more over dinner?”

Henry’s eyebrows went up, his eyes widening. “Oh, uhm… sure, that sounds nice, actually.”

Bertrum offered a warm smile. “Wonderful.”

*****

That night, Henry arrived at the restaurant Bertrum specified with a sheaf of papers in his arms. As he stepped in the glass doors, he found the designer waiting for him. He offered a smile.  
“I'm glad you're able to meet with me, Henry. I think it's important to maintain a good relationship outside of the work environment.”

“You know, I think you're onto something there.” Henry returned a hesitant smile as a waiter in a three-piece suit lead them to a table for two. A small menu was handed to them both, Henry setting his papers as far to the side as he could. 

Once their drink and appetizer orders were taken, Bertrum spoke up. “Have you been here before?”

Henry chuckled. “Well, no… it's a little above my normal price range, if I'm honest…”

“I think it's very worth it, the food is as high quality as they want you to believe. The wine, too, if you'd like to give it a try?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, no, no, I don't think so… I don't drink a lot, especially when I'm working.” At his words, he turned back to his papers. “So… I really liked those concepts you gave me earlier, I’ve been working on them for a little while…”

*****

By the time the waiter was bringing the pair a dessert menu, which they both declined, Henry had been rambling for a good hour or more between bites of dinner. Bertrum, however, only looked interested in what he had to say, his chin resting in the palm of one hand and a small smile on his lips. When the bill was placed on the table, Henry idly reached for it. However, a hand much larger than his own stopped him, causing the animator to look up. 

“Please, let me pay.” Bertrum voiced.

“What? No, I can't let you do that, at least split it with me.” Henry tried. 

“I insist, let me. Please?” The gentle look on the man's face contrasted the determined look in his eyes. 

Henry sighed. “Alright, fine… But I'm leaving the tip.”

“Nonsense.” Bertrum waved him off, scribbling on to the paper, then setting a five and three two-dollar bills with it.

Henry tried to hide the surprised look on his face. “You didn't have to do that…”

“And yet I did.” He stated with a smirk.

“I suppose we should get going, then. I really appreciate being able to meet with you outside of work, I feel like I don't have to be looking over my shoulder every minute.” He started stuffing papers back into his folder, throwing a smile up at Bertrum. “Did you want to hang onto these now that I've made some adjustments?”

“That may be best, yes. I can get them to my teams as soon as possible tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds good to me.” 

Outside, despite the papers clutched in one arm, Bertrum held the door open for the animator, who quietly thanked him. 

“I would like to do this again sometime soon, Henry. Perhaps not with so much work mixed in.” Bertrum's hand came to rest on the small of Henry's back, moving down the short sidewalk with him towards the parking lot. 

Henry didn't try to shake him off, but gave him a baffled look. “What do you mean?”

“I simply want to get to know you better. You have a sharp mind, and just the right sense of humor. Surly there’s more to you than ink, paper and cartoons.”  
Henry's eyes shifted to watch his shoes. “Oh, you would think that…” By then, the two had arrived by Henry's car, a slightly used white Lambda. Bertrum's hand fell away from his back.  
“Have a good night, Henry.” The designer spoke fondly. 

“Thank you, you too.” Henry responded cheerfully, sliding into the driver's seat.

*****

Two days later, after taking time off over the weekend, Henry arrived back at the studio before anyone else, even Wally Franks. He turned on the lights near his desk and in the break room, immediately going there to make a batch of coffee. 

Caffeine in hand, he set to work, only to find a lone piece of paper folded neatly on his desk. His full name was scrawled across it in elegant letters, ever so slightly smudged. Setting his mug down, he took the paper between his thumb and forefinger, unfolding it. Inside, centered on the page, lines of more precise words. They read, 

Artist's hands, Artist's pens,  
do you treat the day so well?  
Mind your self, mind your mind,  
so you think yourself fair.  
In glass, see as one should,  
orchid in golden light.  
Fire deep in heart, coals go warm,  
let one close, without being burned.  
Feel your warmth, through the nights,  
linen cold no longer.  
At peace, we rest, perhaps soon together.

Henry tilted his head at the words, not quite sure what to make of them. He had a vague idea of what it could all mean, but even so, why had someone given it to him? And with the paper unsigned, it just confused him more. Briefly, he considered Bertrum, who he'd had dinner with recently, but… No, he couldn't think of why the designer would write something like that for him, of all people. He also considered it a mistake, but his name on the front said otherwise. He shook his head, folding the paper back up and setting it on the shelf below his workspace. He had other things to worry about for the time being. 

*****

By mid morning, most of the other staff members had arrived. He could tell just by the noise starting up in the studio, between the projectors and the faint sounds of the music department below. Having the time to work uninterrupted was a blessing to him, but that all ended when a familiar voice came up the hall. 

“Henry!” Joey chimed, approaching the desk. “How's the new episode coming along?”

Henry sighed internally, but didn't turn around. He felt Joey lean over his shoulder to watch him work. “It's coming along just fine, Mister Drew. Right on schedule.”

“Great! Glad to hear it's nearly done, then!” Joey made to walk off, but Henry whipped around. 

“What do you mean? I'm only half done with this, there's another two weeks before the deadline...”

Joey blinked. “No, the deadline's in four days. I told you about that, didn't I? We're a little strapped for cash, we need to put the episodes out faster.”

Henry sighed outwardly this time, through his nose. “I think you failed to mention it.”

“Hm. Oh well. Just keep at it! Work hard, work happy! Then I won't have to dock your pay.” The last line he spoke was much darker, more serious than the jaunty voice he normally used. It made Henry flinch, but then he was alone at his desk again. He struggled to make ends meet as it was, he couldn't afford an argument with Joey.

*****

Henry decided against taking a lunch hour, instead trying his hardest to get his work done. He'd already accepted that he would probably be spending a good amount of the night there as well. 

“Heya, Henry!” A Brooklyn accent called across from Henry's desk.

Knowing the voice, Henry waved without looking up. “Hi, Wally. How are you?” 

“Same ol’, same ol’, different day.” Wally moved closer to the animator so he wouldn't have to raise his voice as much. 

“Hey, by any chance, did you see anyone around my desk while I wasn't here? Someone left this for me and I can't figure out who.” Then, Henry set down his pen and held the letter up for Wally to see. 

Wally's bright green eyes squinted as he leaned closer. “I didn’ see anybody over hea, no. What's it say?”

Henry's face flushed a bit. “It's a poem. I'm not sure I'm interpreting it right, but…” He trailed off, allowing the janitor to take it and read over it. 

“I can tell ya this; I ain't the smartest, but ta me, this sounds like somebody's sweet on ya. You dunno who wrote it?”

“Not a clue.” Henry replied convincingly.

“Maybe it was one'a the gals downstairs. Th’ writin’ sure looks like it.”

“You really think?”

“Yeah, any’a th’ girls downstairs left-handed?”

Henry tilted his head. “Does that matter?”

Wally nodded. “Yeah, lookit th’ way th’ ink’s smudged.” Henry looked at the letter again. “Whoeva wrote it did it with their left hand.” To emphasize, he held up his gloved left hand and wiggled his fingers.

“You know, you may be onto something there, Wally.” Henry tilted his head, hoping the janitor really was.

“Yep! And tha’s my one good idea for th’ day, don’ ask me for anythin’ else!” The janitor gave a wink, making Henry let out a hardy laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly appreciate any and all feedback I can get on this! I really enjoy it, but I want to know what others think too!


	3. Chapter Three: Workaholic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO! I'm just going to open with a content warning for transphobia. It's not... major, but... it ended up as a plot point.

By nearly ten that night, Henry found himself making decent progress on the newest cartoon. However, it came at the price of feeling relaxed, or rested. His eyes burned, and a deep ache went all the way up from his hips to the base of his skull. The only light left on was the one above his desk, one of his hands gripped his hair while the other inked in his sketches. He was focused so hard on the drawing in front of him that he didn’t notice the heavy footsteps coming closer. A voice caught his attention, but didn’t pull it away.

“Still working?” Bertrum questioned.

“I have to.” Henry replied numbly.

The designer hummed. “You look awfully tense. When was the last time you had a break?”

“I couldn’t take breaks today.” Henry shook his head ever so slightly. When hands landed on both his shoulders, though, he froze, sitting back from his work. 

“You’re taking one now.”As Bertrum began to gently massage his shoulders and neck, Henry felt himself practically melt. He let his hands fall into his lap, his eyes closing. After a few long, silent moments, Bertrum spoke again. “Go home. You need sleep.”

“Well so do you.” Henry countered, turning in his chair. 

Instead of his usual suit, Bertrum was wearing a plain white t-shirt, which he’d obviously sweated through. His arms and clothes were smeared with dirt, and what could have been ink or machine oil. Dressed in such a way, it was easy to see that his normally formal clothes hid well-toned muscles. “Yes, I know… I was just on my way out. Walk with me?”

“I really can’t…” The animator sighed.

Bertrum’s expression turned firm. “You can’t stay here all night.”

Henry shrugged in return. “I have before, it’s not a big deal. I have a deadline to meet.”

“You’re practically falling asleep in front of me. Go home, Henry. No deadline can be that important. What’s Drew going to do if you miss it?”

“Dock my pay.” Henry mumbled. 

At that point, Bertrum leaned down to meet his eyes, a hand on his shoulder again. “So you leave, and take your characters with you. Suddenly he has no animator, no cartoons, and you have plenty of companies that want you. Right?”

Henry’s gaze shifted away. “I’d need a really good lawyer if I want my characters back, and no one’s even heard of me.”

“Sue Drew, and everyone will know your name. Besides, if you need a lawyer, I could provide you with one.”

Henry tilted his head. “Why would you do that? No, you know what, I shouldn’t even be considering this. I have work to do. I really appreciate your concern, but-”

“Don’t make me carry you out of here.” He snapped.

“Excuse me?” Henry's voice become more confused than upset.

“If I must, I will.” Bertrum crossed his arms.

“I don't think you even could. Please, just leave me be. I'll be fine, you should go home.” Henry’s last attempt had him waving off the whole thing. It seemed his insistence paid off, as well. Bertrum sighed.

“Fine. But do, please, go home soon. Good night, Henry.”

“Good night, Bertrum.” It was only after the designer had left and Henry had gone back to work that something clicked in his mind. Though no one was around to lighten, he spoke aloud. “What was he even doing up here so late if he didn’t know I was here?”

*****

Morning came without Henry noticing, considering the lack of windows in the building. The moment he heard activity, and saw more lights coming on, though, he hesitantly stood and went to the break room. A fresh pot of coffee sat on the counter, so he poured himself a mug.

“You’re early.” Came the surprised voice of Sammy Lawrence, who came to stand next to him by the counter.

“Implying that I left.” Henry gave him a sidelong glance. As usual, the music director’s curly blond hair went in all directions. It looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, but the neat button-up and clarity in his bright blue eyes suggested otherwise.

“That deadline’s killing you, too, isn’t it?” Sammy asked as he added two hefty scoops of sugar to his own coffee. 

“It really is, my hands are so stiff.”

“I don’t understand it. You and I are practically the only reasons this studio is still running, and we’re the ones suffering for it. You don’t even have an office anymore, you have a desk shoved in the corner! Budget cuts, my ass…” He grumbled as he took a long drink.

Henry glanced around him as if checking to make sure Joey wasn't there. He didn't see him, of course, but that did nothing to ease his fear of being overheard. “If you ask me, I think Joey just likes feeling like he’s above everyone here. He hardly does anything, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Exactly! This place is named after him, he should at least be trying a little harder.”

Henry nodded in agreement. “I should get going again. I just needed some java.”

“Me too, it was a mistake even going home last night, but the orchestra can’t play if they’re all half dead from exhaustion.” By then, they’d both made it back into the hallway, ready to go their separate ways. “Good luck, Stein.”

“Thanks. You too.” Henry gave a small wave as Sammy walked off, then went back to his own desk. Everything was just as he’d left it, of course, and he made sure to set his mug out of the way. Pain shot up through his whole hand and up his wrist as he lifted his pen, but that couldn’t stop him. Not today.

*****

Mid-morning, at least by Henry’s guess, was when Wally came to see him again. His friendly demeanor had changed by then, seeming more nervous. “Hey, uh, Henry?”

The animator didn’t turn around. “What’s up?”

“Joey wants to see you in his office… The downstairs one.”

Henry whipped around, pen still in hand. “Did… he say what he wants?”

Wally shook his head.

“Did he seem upset?”

“I’ve got no idea, but… I’d hurry if I was you.” Wally made his way back down the hall, evidently into a different part of the floor. 

Henry stood once more, putting his pen into his shirt pocket. The way down to Joey’s office was dark, and nerve-wracking alone. That, along with the many ideas of what could be wrong, didn’t help to keep Henry’s heart calm. When he arrived at his boss’s door, which was closed, he knocked three times. On the other side, Joey’s voice drifted through.

“Come in, Henry.” Joey sat in the large chair behind his desk with his hands steepled, elbows resting in front of him.

Henry obeyed, closing the door behind himself and staying next to it. “You wanted to see me?”

“Please, come sit down.” He indicated the wooden chair across from him. When Henry did as he’d asked, he spoke again. “It’s been brought to my attention that you’re rather… unhappy with the way things are running around here. Is that correct?”

Henry swallowed and shook his head.

“Maybe I need to be a little more specific. You don’t think I’m pulling my weight around here. You think you deserve more than you’ve got. You can’t lie to me, Henry! I know everything that happens here!”

Henry internally scrambled for a response. Would Joey even let him respond? No good could come from this. But… In his moment of panic, his conversation with Bertrum the night before came back to him. Bertrum thought he needed to stand up to Joey, obviously with legal help, this was a totally different situation. Despite the way his chest seized, Henry took a deep breath. “You don’t pull any weight here.”

Joey’s eyebrows went up, surprised. “Oh, wow. Do you have anything to back that up?” Joey tilted his head, smiling dangerously. 

“All I’ve seen come out of this office are deadlines, empty promises, budget cuts, and poorly-planned concept sketches.” Henry bit back. “Not to mention staggering bills for an amusement park we clearly can’t afford.”

Joey leaned forward. “Tell me more about these… empty promises of mine, hm? You wanted to make cartoons on a large scale, I said you could, and here we are. Go on, tell me.”  
Henry completely missed the threat, his mind fogged by both sleep deprivation and a sudden rage-fueled fire. “You told me I’d be big. Me, not just my characters which, by the way, you’ve been taking control of. You told me my dreams would come true, but right now? At this moment? Working for you is a nightmare! No one knows my name because you took it out of the credits, you replaced it with your own. You took my office and put my desk in a back corner, no one even knows where to find me! I don’t even have a sign with my name on it, I have a sign that says art department! How is that fair? How is it fair of you to keep threatening my paycheck? Do you really expect me to just keep taking it?!” By the time he stopped, he was on his feet, an action he hadn’t even noticed. His hands were braced on the desk, leaning towards his boss as he’d yelled. 

Joey only laughed in return, a dark sound. “I do, Henry. Because,” He got to his feet as well, towering over the animator. Before Henry could stop it, a hand was gripping his tie, pulling is face closer to Joey's snarling expression. “You would be nothing if it wasn’t for me. I bought the space, I make sure you have enough to survive. No one would even know your cartoons if I hadn’t given you the space and supplies to make them.” Henry opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off. “Besides, it would be a damn shame if word got out that it wasn’t really a man doing all the work.” Then Joey let go, acting as if the fabric he'd been holding was hot.

At first, Henry wasn’t sure what the other meant, but then it dawned on him. His eyes went wide and he took a half-step back, pushing the chair as well. “I trusted you with that. You wouldn’t. All the things you've done, you wouldn't dare.”

“You really have to be careful who you trust, Henry. One slip up, everything goes away… I know that wouldn’t be ideal, but maybe that will be a reminder for you to remember where you are. You draw, you meet my deadlines, I give you money. Don’t disrupt that, alright? You can go now.” He was waved off. 

Afraid to say anything more, Henry quickly exited, shaking all over. Along with the burn in his eyes from how tired he’d become, there was the burn of tears forming, his chest aching even worse. At first, he aimed to go back to his desk, but he soon found he didn’t have the strength. He pushed into the nearest bathroom he could find, taking to one of the stalls and locking himself in it. He clamped his over his mouth, soft sobs wracked him. He knew Joey’s words shouldn’t have cut as deep as they had, but he couldn’t help it. He blamed it, mostly, on lack of sleep making him more emotional. Even so, he couldn’t believe Joey would betray him like that. He had no way of telling if he would make good on that promise or not, so Henry decided it would be best to play it safe; keep his mouth shut, work hard, keep drawing. It was all he could do, really. 

He had no idea how long he’d been hiding in the bathroom stall with tears running down his face, but he completely froze when someone else walked in. For a long moment, neither of them moved. Until Henry hiccuped, a whine escaping him as well. He silently cursed himself. The other person approached the stall, stopping just outside of it. Under the door, Henry could see dirty dress shoes, which he recognized.

“Is… everything alright…?” Bertrum questioned.

“Fine.” Henry managed shakily.

“Henry? What are you doing down here? Are you really alright?” Bertrum hadn't even realized who it was he was speaking to, it seemed. 

Henry didn't answer for a long time, but instead, opened the door. Just like the previous night, Bertrum wore a white shirt, but this time, half his face and much of his neck were splattered in machine oil. The smell alone was enough to tell Henry it wasn't ink, that explained why Bertrum had come in. His expression shifted towards concern when his eyes fell on Henry, though. He leaned down enough to meet the animator's eyes. “What happened?” He looked like he was reaching for Henry's face, but stopped and put his hand on his shoulder instead.

Henry hugged himself tightly. “I had a meeting with Joey…” 

Bertrum's mustache twitched as he sneered. “What did he say to you?”

“It… really isn't important, I need to get working anyway. Sorry if I bothered you at all.” Henry slipped past the other man, and out the door. He hardly noticed the trip back to his desk until he was in his chair, staring down at the latest set of frames. He'd have to stop crying before he could work on them, though, or else he may ruin the page.

Even after the tears stopped flowing, Henry couldn't get himself to stop shaking. He once again had to blame it on lack of sleep, though he knew better. With a shaking hand, he could only make small movements without messing anything up. At such a critical time, he really couldn't afford it. 

*****

When the studio began to fall quiet for the night again, Henry gave in. He couldn't be in the studio overnight again, not after the day's events. He left everything where it was, shuffling off to the time clock and punching out before anyone saw or could stop him.

Outside, the weather had turned bitter. Wind threw his hair upward, its icy fingers pulling at his clothes as well. He found his car keys in his pocket and hurried to the vehicle, the beginnings of a rainstorm pelting him and leaving wet spots all over him. Despite his rush to be at home and in bed, he took the drive to his apartment slowly, the thought of warm blankets and a decent meal his only motivation.


	4. Chapter Four: Conversation

The next morning, it was pouring rain by the time Henry got to work an hour before he was scheduled. When he made his way to the front door, under the protection of a large umbrella, Joey was already there, keys in hand. He glanced back at Henry and even though the weather kept much light from filtering through, it was easy to see the huge tan band-aid across his nose, along with his blackened eyes. A slightly bloodied tissue stuck out of one of his nostrils.

“Morning, Henry. You have two extra days for the episode.” He spoke flatly as he pulled the door open, stepping inside without waiting for a response.

Henry tilted his head, but didn't attempt to get an explanation . He folded his umbrella, setting it down just inside the door to dry and went to his desk to continue his work. 

*****

Only an hour or so after he'd started drawing again, Wally came by to empty the waste bin next to his desk. At first, it didn't seem like he was going to say anything at all.

“You saw Joey, right?” He asked, a grin splitting his lips.

Henry spared him a look, the janitor’s smile spreading to him. “I saw him when I came in, is his nose broken?”

Wally nodded. “Sure as shit. He looks horrible, it’s great!” 

“Who had the guts to do that to him, any idea?”

“I thought it could a been you at first, thought maybe your meetin’ with ‘im dodnt go as planned. Then I heard a rumor it was tha’ Bertie fella, th’ guy buildin’ th’ park downstairs? Neva gotten to talk to ‘im in person, but he’s a big guy. Th’ l’il guy tha’ handles th’ money said he heard ‘im an’ Joey shoutin’ at each otha, then Joey came outta his office with’a bloody nose.”

Henry’s smile fell. “Oh gosh… you think he’d really do something like that?”

Wally shrugged. “Dunno. Looks pretty scary though, I wouldn’t doubt it.” Having long finished his original task, Wally started to move off. “See ya later, Henry. Just thought ya might like t’know what’s goin’ on!”

“Yeah, thanks.” He waved slightly as the man left, turning back to his work. Wally’s explanation kept running through his mind, though. If it had really been Bertrum that hurt Joey, was it because of the state he’d found Henry in the day before?

*****

Nearly three days later, with the newest animation finished and submitted to Norman Polk for editing, Henry put his head down on his desk, any loose papers shoved to the side. He'd taken another full night in the studio, crunching to get things done, and could no longer move his right hand. He could feel his heart beat in it, and a very intense pain, but couldn't bring himself to do anything about it. Not at that moment, anyway. There was a much heavier buzz in the studio, everyone rushing to get the animation completely finished. Henry's moment of quiet was only interrupted by Bertrum, who he hadn't seen for the past few days.

“Ah- Should I come back later?” He asked softly.

Henry picked his head up and shook it. “No, no, it's okay. It's actually really nice to see you.”

Bertrum smiled, taking a seat in the extra chair not far from Henry. That day, he was wearing a suit with a lavender undershirt. “Likewise. How are you?”

Henry turned his chair around to face the taller man. “I'm tired, but… if all goes as planned, my hard work is actually going to pay off.” He idly stretched his right hand as much as he could, pressing his left into it to try and help. He thought he'd done a decent job of hiding his pain, yet that seemed not to be the case when Bertrum reached out and took it. The designer, being so much larger than him as it was, completely enveloped Henry's hand in one of his own. He flinched when Bertrum carefully pressed his fingers into the animator's flesh, but he didn't pull away.

“You're overworking yourself, you know. It isn't good for you at all.” 

“I know. I do what I have to, though. At least now I can really take a break for a couple days, get some sleep, maybe- Ow!” When Bertrum hit a particularly tense spot, Henry jerked away on reflex. “Sorry. That was helping, you don't have to stop.” He offered his hand again. 

Bertrum took it more gently, his eyes focused. “Here's an idea; Why don't you come home with me after you clock out? Just for dinner, of course, I'll have it made. Think of it like... a celebration of your success. What do you think?”

Henry blinked, caught off guard. “I- Well, um…” At first, he was going to refuse. He did think he deserved a break, though… A real one. “Alright. That sounds nice.”

Bertrum seemed to perk up with his response. “Wonderful. You can follow me as I leave, it would be easier that way.”

“Sounds like a plan. Should I meet you downstairs?”

“If you'd like, yes. I'll most likely be in the planning room, you know how to get there.” He let go of Henry's hand then, folding both of his own in his lap.

“Will do. Thank you, Bertrum.” 

“Of course.” He stood from the chair. “I'll be seeing you later.” 

“Mhm! I look forward to it.” Henry smiled, nodding. When Bertrum disappeared from his view down the hall, he reached for a sharpened pencil. His hand no longer hurting as badly, he figured it may be good to start on a few more ideas for the cartoons.

*****

Following Bertrum's request, Henry arrived at the warehouse just after he'd clocked out for the night. As promised, Bertrum was waiting for him in the hollowed out Bendy head, speaking with someone dressed in a dark blue jumpsuit. He had a thick beard, and just the right voice to match it. Henry was able to catch the tail-end of the conversation.

“-all this new machinery going in may disrupt your buildin’, is all. I can't change his mind, believe me, I've tried, but whatever this thing is… it's a problem.”

Bertrum let out a long, deep sigh, hanging his head with his hands on the table. “It's fucking ridiculous, he has to many ideas steeping in that head of his, he just won't-” It was then that he noticed Henry, his face flushing on a hardly noticeable level. “Pardon me if you had to hear that, I'm sorry.”

At that, the bearded man took his cue to leave. He nodded at them both. “G'night, folks.” He exited into the warehouse.

Henry considered asking what they'd been talking about, but decided that it wasn't his business, not right then. “Are you ready to go?” 

“Yes, of course. Just a few moments.” Henry watched as Bertrum moved around the small space, rolling up papers and flicking off the overhead lights. When he was finished, it appeared that almost on reflex, he was going to offer his arm for Henry to take, but stopped himself. “After you.” He gestured in the direction of the elevator.

*****

Wherever Henry had been expecting Bertrum to live, he hadn't been expecting a huge iron gate to be in front of the house. As both cars got closer, two people came out of nowhere and unlocked it, pulling it open for them. The driveway up was long, gravel crunching under the wheels as they pulled up. The house itself was a huge two stories, smooth white pillars supporting the overhang above the ornate red door. For a moment, Henry sat in awe. He was aware that Bertrum had a good income from all his park designs, but had never considered it would be enough to afford such a nice estate. Bertrum had already climbed out of his car, so Henry followed him.

“Oh my goodness…” He looked up at the house, then to Bertrum, who tilted his head. 

“Hm?” As he made his way up the front step, the door was opened for them.

“This,” He gestured around them, staying on Bertrum's heels. “It's… huge!” 

The designer chuckled quietly. “Have you never seen this part of town?”

“Well, no. This is the rich part of town, I've got no reason to be here.”

“Hm. I suppose you do now, then, yes?” 

Inside the door, a dark blue carpet with black fringe covered a portion of the cream-colored tile floor, but not much of it. A thick staircase was on either side of the wide entryway, an open archway far into the room. At the back, a set of mahogany double doors were closed. As Bertrum led Henry through the archway to a large dining room, a rapid clicking sound followed behind them. 

Henry turned towards it just in time for an unexpected weight to land on his shoulders, hot, stinking breath hitting his face. He yelped on impact, but began to laugh when a cold nose smeared across his cheek, as well as a big pink tongue.

“God damn it, Ferris! Down! Get down!” Bertrum rushed to grab the dog by his collar, pulling him off of Henry. “Sit!” He commanded, and the dog did, his thin tail thumping the ground. He licked his chops, then gave a big doggy smile.

Henry still laughed, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Oh, he's okay! I like dogs, I didn't really see you as the type to have pets.”

Bertrum leaned down enough to pet the dog between his huge pointed ears. “Yes, well… he chose me, I suppose. I just don't want him jumping up on my guests, he doesn't know how big he is.”

“That's adorable.” Henry's eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled. 

“Yes, until he tries to lay on you…” Bertrum rolled his eyes. “If you would like to wash your face, there's a washroom right over there.” He pointed to a door under the opposite set of marble stairs. “I'll be in here.”

“Oh, thank you.” Henry nodded, making his way to it.

*****

After washing the dog off of his hands and face, Henry went back to the dining room, finding that instead of sitting at the massive table at the center of the room, Bertrum had made himself comfortable at one that was much smaller, closer to one corner. He sat with his ankle resting on the opposite knee, Ferris laying at his feet. Across from him, past the second chair, was a tall window, its thick red curtains opened to let in the light from the sunset. He'd taken his jacket off and hung it on the high back of his chair, rolled up his sleeves up to his elbows as well. Somewhere else in the room, there was a radio playing, but Henry couldn't find it from a quick glance. He shuffled across the carpet, slowly taking his place across from the designer. When he did, he could see Ferris's tail start to wag.

“Everything here is so nice, I feel so out of place…” Henry commented. 

“Oh, please… you fit right in, don't be ridiculous.” Bertrum folded his arms on the table. 

“Well, I mean… I expected a nice place, but… wow, Bertrum…”

“Please, let's forget about that. Money is not all I want to be known for.”

“Right, sorry!” Henry waved his hand. “So… you really didn't seem like a dog person, what made you get him?” Henry pointed to Ferris.

Bertrum glanced down with a smile. “I don't really know. A friend of mine had a litter, I saw him and just thought it might be nice to have some company. It's a large estate.”

“I could see that, it might get lonely. His name is Ferris, right? Like… Ferris wheel?” 

Bertrum's smile widened, his eyes squinting. “Maybe, yes…”

“That's pretty cute, you know.” Henry's expression mirrored his.

“Do you keep pets at all? You seem like the type to own cats.” Bertrum quirked a brow. 

“Oh, no… my apartment doesn't allow pets. I think I would have a cat, though, if I could.”

Both fell quiet then, taking a few moments to just listen to the radio. Bertrum gazed past Henry, out the window at the fading light. He shifted in his chair. “Perhaps I should have dinner started, hm? Maybe get a bottle of wine to go with it.”

“You know what? Sure, I'll have a glass tonight. Why not?”

*****

“-So I'm standing in front of the ride- just the shell, mind you- with three steel pipes over my shoulder and he starts to explain to me that there are not supposed to be pipes where I'm taking them. I look him in the eyes and say you idiot, this is my park, I know what I'm doing!” Bertrum paused to take a sip from his glass.

“What did you do?!”

“I told him to try and stop me and kept walking! I suppose he took that as a challenge, he called security on me.”

“In your own park? Oh my gosh!”

“Yes! My security guards were so confused, at least they knew who I was! Moron…” He shook his head as Henry laughed. 

“I can't believe he didn't recognize you.” Henry shook his head, then shifted his attention to the plate in front of him. 

“I normally don't eat like this.” Bertrum explained. “Most nights, I cook for myself, but I call in my chefs when I get busy. It saves time.”

“I could understand that, you have a lot to maintain.” Henry nodded.

“What about that studio? I'm sure you've got stories from there.”

“You have no idea.” He poked at what was left of his food with a fork. “One time, I came in early on a Monday, and I'm not usually working on weekends. I hadn't been there in a few days, so I turn on some lights, go into the breakroom to make some coffee, and-” He stopped to cover his mouth, muffling a laugh. “Oh my gosh, it was such a mess! The first thing I saw was a broken broom on the stairs, which wasn't so bad, but-” He stopped again, briefly. “One of the janitors was tied to the rafters, unconscious, our accountant was stuck in a cupboard above the counter yelling for someone to get him down, the second janitor was curled up on the table asleep-” By then, Bertrum was laughing as well. “There were bottles everywhere. I'm not kidding when I say that, I couldn't figure out where they'd all gotten so much whiskey until I found the toymaker hugging the coffee maker under a different table! He had to have been their supplier, but that's one of the weirdest things I've had happen there.”

By the time Henry finished, Bertrum's deep laugh filled the space. He wiped his eye with one hand, taking a deep breath to calm down. “I don't think I believe that!”

“I didn't either! I wanted it to be a dream, I was worried Joey might kill them all! They were all so, so hungover…”

“If it were me, I would have, my god…” He shook his head. Shortly after they went quiet, a short man dressed in white came to take their plates away, into a swinging door. Bertrum poured himself another half-glass of wine from the bottle he'd brought, then silently offered to do the same for Henry. 

“Oh, no thanks, I don't drink a lot. It wouldn't be a good idea.” The animator leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs then quickly uncrossing them. Instead, he folded his hands on the table, watching Bertrum with a soft expression.

The designer quickly took notice. “What? Is there something on my face?”

Henry bit his lip. “Yeah, right here.” With one finger, he indicated the area above his upper lip.

When Bertrum realized what he meant, he faked an offended gasp. “How dare!” He spoke over dramatically.

“I do dare!” Henry returned, giggling before he could stop himself. 

Carefully, Bertrum reached out and placed his own hands on top of the animator's, keeping his eyes on them. Neither man moved for a long time, until Bertrum leaned forward, finally meeting Henry's eyes.

When Henry noticed the action, he copied it at first, but rethought what was happening and pulled away, freeing his hands from Bertrum's. “Y-you know, it's, uhm… it's really late, here, now, I should get home…”

At first looking dismayed, Bertrum hid it by clearing his throat. “Ah yes, of course. I'll… walk you out.” They both stood and made their way to the door, Ferris not far behind. As Bertrum pulled the front door open, though, he held the dog by the collar. “Good night, Henry.”

“Yeah, um… good night!” He rushed out and to his car, fumbling with the keys for a moment.

It was only after he'd driven off, through the slowly opened gate, that he realized what he did may have really hurt the designer, if he had read the situation right. In his sudden panic, it wasn't something he'd thought about, he just hadn't been sure of himself right then. He would have to see, he decided, if it would cost him a friendship. Or maybe more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The garbage formatting on this site is really starting to get on my nerves...


	5. Chapter Five: Slipped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning because Joey is being a massive dick... again. And Susie, without really meaning to, I suppose.

Henry arrived on time on Monday morning, he was more well-rested than he had been for the past week. Some lights on the first floor were already on, save for by his desk. Those he turned on himself and slid into his chair, setting his mug down to one side. Only then did he notice a paper in the middle, folded, with his name on it. He now recognized the script as Bertrum's, since it couldn't possibly anyone else. As if afraid to touch it, he hesitantly unfolded the paper. Smudged, just like before, the words read,

Orchid wilted,  
light gone,  
but in this dark,  
I do still yearn.  
Leave me behind,  
I understand,  
I will not mind.  
Move too fast, slip and fall.  
We rise again,  
for a different love.

“Oh gosh…” Henry bit his lip and sat back, reading the words over a second time. There was no doubt in his mind anymore that he'd hurt Bertrum by running out. For a moment, his mind was blank. He didn't know if he should go see him and make amends or not. Partly, he worried that may just make things worse and if he understood the words, Bertrum did want to stay friends. Shaking his head, he set it to the side as well, deciding that for the time being, he could distract himself with drawing.

*****

For practice, and partially for fun, Henry had decided to draw expressions with his toons, starting with Bendy, of course. He had a full range of emotions scattered across several pages. He started to work on a few with Boris, as well, but his attention quickly drifted to one of his newest creations, Alice Angel. He was able to draw a smile and a frown before he sat back and examined the drawing. Seeing the expressions in his mind was one thing, but transferring them to the paper was another story without a reference. He thought for a moment, then got up from his chair and made his way through the first floor of the studio, then down the stairs to the music department. 

The main floor was alive with musicians and voice actors alike, all rushing to be somewhere. Coming out of the orchestra hall was just the person he was looking for, her wavy blond hair lightly pinned back with a couple clips. She wore a pale blue blouse with lace trim, tucked into a dark blue knee-length skirt. As Henry got closer and caught her attention, Susie waved.  
“Morning, Mister Stein.” She greeted, smiling.

“Hello, Miss Campbell. Do you have a few minutes? I'm doing some sketches upstairs, I could use a model.”

At the request, she perked up. “Sure, I've got some time between sessions. Whatcha working on?”

Henry started to go back upstairs, Susie just behind him. “I'm working on some sketches of Alice, actually! I figured you'd be the right person to come to for it.”

“Of course!” She giggled. “I'm Alice Angel~!” She sang, causing Henry to laugh as well. It didn't take long to reach Henry's desk, but as Susie plopped herself down in the extra chair, she spoke up again. “So I heard down the grapevine that you've been having girl trouble.”

Henry froze partway sitting down, a stack of blank paper in his hands. He quickly recovered, though, shifting his chair to face the actress with the paper on his lap. “I- well, sort of, it's… it's complicated. Could you do this for me?” He faked a shocked expression and so did Susie for a few moments.

“I just remember hearing about a poem and you saying you couldn't figure out who wrote it.” When she wasn't talking, she held the expression.

“Yeah, well… it doesn't really matter now, miss.”

“Why not? You seem so lonely, having a girl around might be good for you!”

Henry glanced up. “Wow, gee, thanks.”

“Oh- no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that… You always work alone, you live alone… you can't be totally happy like that, are you?” She shrugged. “Having someone there might just help you, that's all.”

“I mean…” Henry considered it. “I suppose you have a point…” Henry looked up and made an exaggerated pouting face, which Susie copied. “I just don't think it's going to work out with… the one that wrote the poems.”

“More than one?”

The animator sighed. “Yeah… I messed things up pretty majorly the other night-”

“Oh my god, did you go on a date?!” She leaned forward, placing a hand lightly on his knee. “What'd you do?” 

“Well… I think… Well, first off, I… haven't really been on a lot if dates. I didn't really know what I was doing, it took me a while to figure out it even really was a date-”  
Susie rolled her eyes. “You're hopeless.”

“Yeah… But I think… I think we were about to kiss, so I panicked and left. I found another poem on my desk this morning, I think it's saying that we should still be friends.”

Susie leaned back in her chair, thinking for a moment. “Is that what you want?”

“I… really don't know.”

“Maybe try getting her flowers, then. Apologize, tell her you're a goof and were just intimidated by how pretty she is! That might help.”

“I don't think flowers are the way to go on this one…” He looked up and made another face, Susie following his lead.

“Okay, look. Do you care about this girl?” She did her best to hold the look. 

“...I do.” He nodded.

“And you want to spend time with her?”

He considered the dates he and Bertrum had been on, how nice they were. Bertrum had a way of making him smile he didn't really understand. “Yes.”

“Are you in love with her?”

Henry bit his lip. “How would I tell?”

“How does she make you feel?”

Henry tilted his head. “He makes me feel… good. Like I deserve more than I have. He makes me feel like my ideas matter, that I matter. He makes me feel like… I'm more than just what I can make, he knows there's more to my life than this place, and he cares about that part of me too. He's so tall and so good-looking, but he's so kind to me, I don't really get it, but being around him is so nice…” When he looked up, Both of Susie's thin eyebrows were raised, the expressions she'd been making before given way to a genuine one of surprise.

“Don’t you mean she?” Was all she said. 

Henry flushed, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. He did his best to keep his breathing steady, as little as it did. “I- Well, you know, I- uhm…” He scrambled for words, but couldn't find any. 

“Wow. Alright then.” Susie shifted in her seat, then stood up. “You know, they're probably gonna be needing me downstairs soon. Have fun with your sketching.” She gave a small wave and moved off, the short heels of her shoes clicking quickly on the floor as she went.

Forcing a deep breath in, Henry turned back to his desk. He had no idea how Susie was going to handle the information he'd accidentally given her, let alone who she would tell about it. It didn't help the situation with Joey, either… He tangled his hands in his hair, hunching over to rest his elbows on the desk. Things could not have been more of a mess.

*****

Despite her leaving under strange or even uncomfortable circumstances, Henry's conversation with Susie stuck in his mind until late that evening. He'd already clocked out for the night, but paused on the stairs out of the breakroom. He enjoyed his time with Bertrum, more than he would if they were just friends and based on the way Bertrum had written, it was easy to tell he thought may have lost his chance with Henry. The animator did not want this to be the case. He nodded to himself, then started on his way down to the prototype park, hoping Bertrum hadn't gone home for the night just yet.

*****

Henry was nearly to the planning room when he spotted someone else coming up the hall towards him. As he got closer, he saw the familiar outfit of a white button-up, dark blue tie and brown suspenders; It was Joey, and though he looked upset at first, his face changed when his eyes fell on Henry, that fake, dangerous smile. A chill went all the way up Henry's spine.  
“Well look who's still here! What a surprise.” Joey's voice dripped with sarcasm. 

“Hi, Joey…” Henry's voice came out more hesitant than he meant it to. 

“Going to visit ol’ Bertie, are we?” He asked, chuckling. Henry could hear the alarm bells sounding in his mind, but didn't get the chance to do anything about it. Joey reached out and grabbed him by the collar with both hands, pulling their faces closer together. Henry's hands clamped down on Joey's wrists. From that distance, it was easy to see the discoloration still left under his eyes, as well as the ridge in his nose where it was starting to heal. “I know what's going on here. I know what you two have been doing behind my back and I'll tell you this, it's going to stop. He's a public figure. If word gets around that he's been going around with a male lover, who happens to be my animator, we're through. He's through. The company's toast. So you've got a choice to make here, Henry. You keep seeing him, I let out your little secret. Suddenly it's a woman he's been seeing, but oh no! Joey Drew Studios’s only animator was a woman the whole time! That won't do for anyone, will it? So your other option is to just back off and let everything go back to normal, hm? Am I clear?”

Choking on the lump in his throat, Henry nodded frantically. He could feel Joey's skin break under his nails where he was digging them in, but neither man reacted.

“Are you sure?” He snarled.

“Yes.” Henry squeaked, and he let go. Without saying another word, Joey walked away. Not towards the stairs back up, but to some other depth of the studio. Henry didn't much care where he'd gone, though. He looked at his hands. Blood stuck under the short nails of his index and middle fingers, and they were both shaking hard. He was suddenly very aware of himself, the way he shook all over and how small he really was in such a large hallway. Joey had made it clear that only one option would be good for him, even if it wasn't exactly what he wanted. He scuffed back upstairs before he could think on it more, only stopping briefly in a bathroom to get the blood off of himself. When he was finished, he rushed to his car, barely holding his emotions in check by then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra, extra! Local Idiot Author Can't Fucking Write Poems!


	6. Chapter Six: Contact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for some injuries, though they aren't particularly bad.

Henry did not make it to the studio the next day, at least not on time. He just couldn't. Between Susie- who had probably told Joey about his slip-up- and Joey himself, plus the possibility of having to see Bertrum again, he couldn't handle it. Just one day, he told himself, to try and get himself back together, whatever that meant.

He'd hardly slept the night before, far more concerned about everything Joey had said, and where he could possibly be getting all the things he had about Henry recently. He paced around his room as the sun started to show through the far window, dressed in a tank top and a pair of gray sweatpants. A fairly large length of ACE bandage lay not far from the door, as well as his work shirt and pants. His tie was just next to the foot of his bed. The mess was not one of his priorities, though. 

He ran a hand through his hair for the hundredth time, mumbling to himself. One thing Joey had been right about was he had to be careful who he trusted, a mistake he wouldn't be able to make again. He sighed deeply. The only other person in the studio he remotely trusted was Wally, but he couldn’t he could even confide in the janitor anymore.   
He found his mind wandering to something Bertrum had said about taking Joey to court. At the time, he’d dismissed the idea quickly, too afraid of the repercussions. Not to mention, even if Bertrum did pay for him, he’d have to pay him back somehow. He removed his hand from his hair and bit down on the nail of his index finger. He didn’t have many other options, really; He was tired of Joey pushing him around and ignoring him, really, and knew the man was just using fear to keep him where he wanted, but it was working. He sighed again, Starting to gather himself together to get dressed.

He needed to talk to Bertrum as soon as possible, despite what Joey had threatened to do.

*****

Dressed in a black button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of brown slacks, Henry finally stepped into the studio close to noon. The minute he did, he found the place buzzing with activity. A lot of employees were gathered near the front door, in the more open part of the room. No one seemed to notice him at first until the animator spotted Wally coming towards him.

“There ya are! I was worried somethin’ happened to ya, are ya aight afta yesterday?” He gently grabbed Henry by the shoulders.

Henry tilted his head to one side. “What are you talking about?”

“What Joey did to ya! I saw the whole thing.”

Henry’s eyes went wide, then he looked past the janitor at the crowd for a moment. “I’m… I’m fine. You saw it?”

Wally nodded, finally letting go of him. “Yeah, I can’t believe he’d manhandle ya like that, I was worried he’d actually hurt ya.”

Henry considered that for a second. “I… don’t think he would, but… What’s everyone doing up here? This can’t be because I showed up a little late.”

“Nah! Well, sorta. In a way it’s ‘cause’a you. Joey got the shit beaten outta him last night, afta you went home, I guess. I dunno who he told, but it was so bad he had ta go to a hospital! I don’ think he’s pressin’ charges on anybody, though, you know he don’ like the law nea’ his business.”

“What?! Who would do that?!” The minute he demanded the answer, he knew it.

“Bertrum! Tha’ guy really hates Joey, he was really mad when I tol’ ‘im what he did ta you.” Wally gestured for Henry to follow him. “Speakin’ of, he wanted ta see ya the minute you were back, c’mon. Joey ain’t hea’t stop ya.”

Henry stayed close as Wally led him through the people, some of which greeted him quietly. “I really, really can’t believe Bertrum would hurt someone that badly…”

Wally shrugged. “He didn’ get away unscathed, they had a fight, from what I saw of it. Made a pretty big mess, too. First they were jus’ yellin’ like normal, then they started swingin’!” At the word, he made motions in the air like he was also punching someone. “Sure scared me, an I wasn’ even involved!”

The rest of the walk down to the warehouse was silent, mostly on Henry’s part. He wasn’t sure what else to say, or to even talk about. Wally took him back to the small room housing the mascot costumes, calling out to get the attention of the designer inside. “Heya Bertrum! I got somebody you’re gonna wanna talk ta!”

As they rounded the corner to the inside, Bertrum sighed, facing the workbench with his hands on it. He didn’t bother turning around. “For the last time, I don’t want to see another fucking person today! I swear, I will lock you in your own damn supply closet if you don’t leave me-” His voice, at first, had begun to rise very rapidly, but he stopped short when he saw Henry.   
Said animator had already moved behind Wally, as if the janitor could shield him from Bertrum’s anger. The first thing he saw was the black eye the designer was already sporting, as well as the large bruise on his cheek just under it. The second thing he saw was as swollen, split lip, then a clenched left fist, which was wrapped in bandages. “Oh my gosh…” Henry was quick to move forward, taking Bertrum’s injured hand in both of his own as gently as he could.

Bertrum let his hand uncurl in Henry’s hold, allowing him to examine it. “I didn’t think you would be here today.”

“I’ll jus’ leave you two be, I’m gonna be upstairs.” Wally voiced, then disappeared out the door.

“Bertrum… What did you do…? How bad are you hurt?” Henry looked back up to his face, carefully reaching one hand out to rest on his unharmed cheek. 

“It looks worse than it is. You should see Drew.” With each word, each one with an ‘s’ had a distinct whistle to it that hadn’t been part of his speech before.

“I don’t think I want to. What did you do to him?”

Bertrum glanced away. “He may or may not be the shameful owner of a few broken bones now. Perhaps a few missing teeth.”

“Why would you do something like that?! You could get in so much trouble! Not just with Joey, but if word gets around-”

“Any word Drew has to spread is going to stay in that twisted head of his, I made that particularly clear to him.” Bertrum snapped before he could finished, then realized how rough he’d been. “Sorry. I’m still bitter.”

“I can tell. Bertrum, why? Was he really so bad you had to break his bones?”

“To you, yes. Besides, he has two-hundred and six of them, he could stand to lose a few.”

Henry shook his head. “You’re telling me you physically assaulted my boss because of how he was treating me…?”

“Henry, your business is your own. Whether he learned from you, or from someone else, your information is not his to spread, especially something so personal.”

Henry suddenly tensed. “Then you know that I’m-”

Bertrum’s voice lowered greatly. “That you’re homosexual? I figured as much myself, it wasn’t my place to label you in such a way, if that’s not what you wanted.”

Henry visibly relaxed. That hadn’t been exactly what he meant, but he would take it for now. His hand finally left Bertrum’s face, that arm instead wrapping around his waist. The other soon followed as he pressed himself into the taller man’s chest, holding him tightly. “You didn’t have to do that for me, that was so stupid of you…”

“Believe it or not, I’m very capable of stupidity. “ Bertrum replied, his voice rumbling through his chest. One of his own hands came to rest in the middle of Henry’s back, the other on his head.

“I’m just glad you aren’t hurt worse…”

“I know. I… appreciate you being concerned over me.” After that, both went quiet, only wanting to take a moment to enjoy each other’s touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please understand that I, as the author, am aware that homosexual is a slightly outdated term by now. If anyone has a problem with the fact that that's what Bertrum said, I apologize on his behalf. I try to stay as historically accurate as possible, that's all. Additionally, absolutely do not fucking bind with ACE bandages. If you do, I will crawl through your window and steal them, then steal all the food from your kitchen. It's not safe and you, in the year 2019, have more options than that. Henry, unfortunately, did not, but if he did, he wouldn't be using them either.


	7. Chapter Seven: Honesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight nsfw in this chapter, but so slight I'm only counting it to be safe.

When Henry finally let go of the taller man, he wasn’t sure how much time had passed. However, Bertrum hadn’t tried to pull away first, which he took as a good sign. He took half a step back, folding his hands and continuously moving his fingers. “Thank you, Bertrum.”

Bertrum raised a brow. “For?”

“For being kind to me, and understanding. Look, I don’t really know what’s been happening here the last couple weeks. Everything is just sort of falling apart and I don’t understand why, but you’ve been treating me really well… Spending time with you has really helped me hold it together, and I really appreciate that. I don’t care what Joey says about you and me going out, I… I need it. I need to be with you.”

Bertrum’s face turned shocked at his words. “Is going out what we were doing?”

“I think so. You brought me home and had dinner made for me, that’s-” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s pretty much what I’d call a date!” 

“That’s truly a relief to hear. When you left the other night, I was sure I’d done something wrong.”

“No, no! Not at all! I just wasn’t expecting it! I didn’t know how to react, I mean… I’ve never gone out with a woman, I didn’t ever expect to be going out with a man, let alone one like you…”

“Henry.” Bertrum stopped him by carefully placing a hand on his cheek, the one without bandages on it. “You’re perfect. I don’t want you for a moment to think you’re anything less than that. And, if it’s all the same to you,” He leaned close, their foreheads nearly touching. “I’d like to kiss you now.”

His eyes fixed on Bertrum’s, his face rapidly heating up, Henry quickly nodded. He hardly managed more than a whisper. “What about your lip? I don’t want to hurt you more.”

“You won’t hurt me. I promise.” He offered a gentle smile, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly and pressing their lips together. Henry’s eyes automatically closed, but otherwise, he was unsure of what to do. He felt Bertrum’s other hand on his hip, which he didn’t mind, and not wanting him to pull away, he put his arms around the designer again. He felt himself relax, the rest of the world momentarially fading from his mind.

After what had to have only been a few seconds, despite feeling like hours, Bertrum broke away from him, his smile still present.When Henry opened his eyes again, he smiled right back, starting to laugh without meaning to. The sound quickly spread to Bertrum, who chuckled back quietly.

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into here. I have no idea what I’m doing.” Even as he spoke, Henry couldn’t stop his laughter.

Having quieted himself, Bertrum stood back to his full height and pulled Henry close again. He let his chin rest on top of the animator’s head. “That’s perfectly alright with me. I’ll take you any way you are.” 

*****

Without Joey to give directions on the new episode, and Bertrum's team already set to work on the next prototype feature, most employees of Joey Drew Studios decided to take the rest of the day off and though they wouldn't admit it quite yet, they were planning on taking the next day off as well. It may put them all behind schedule by Joey's standards, but he'd have to adjust this time. At least, that was the explanation Henry gave Bertrum when he arrived at his house. The building was just as daunting as before, though in full daylight, it really was quite beautiful. 

“If you'd like, there's a much less formal dining room upstairs. It's more meant for living in than hosting.” Bertrum offered, pointing to the stairs. 

“Sure, that sounds nice.” Henry gave him a grin, noticing that as they began to ascend, Ferris had found and started to follow them. Half way up, he rushed past them both, standing at the top with his tail wagging. He had a fairly large rope toy with him and as soon as he was able to figure out what room they were headed to, he ran in.

“He seems excited that I'm home early.” Bertrum commented, leading the way into a much more compact room. A larger radio sat by the door, not far from a small round table. Across the room was a soft-looking dark yellow couch, a matching armchair not far from it. Both were angled towards the window, the brown curtains pinned open to let in the natural afternoon light. Just under the window was a square cushion that matched the color of the couch, meant to be a bed for Ferris. The room itself was fairly open, with plenty of space to move around.

Burtrum slipped his suit jacket off and hung it on the back of a chair at the table. “I'd offer a glass of wine, but you don't at all feel like a day drinker. If you stay for dinner, though…” His eyes fell on Henry as he raised a brow. 

“I might just have to take you up on that offer.” Henry's lopsided smile held.

“Fantastic. I was thinking that- What? What do you want?” The interruption in his thought was caused by none other than Ferris, who bowed at Bertrum's feet with his tail wagging in the air and rope toy still clamped between his jaws. Bertrum spoke directly to the dog. 

Henry chuckled at the action. “It looks like he wants to play, he definitely missed you.” 

“I suppose you're probably right.” Bertrum gave a toothy smile, bending down to grab one end of the toy.

*****

Much later that night, after Bertrum had made them both a good meal, they'd made themselves comfortable on the couch, talking quietly. Ferris was asleep, worn out and curled up in his bed under the window. He snored faintly, though it could hardly be heard over the soft music from the radio.

“I never really considered anything else as a career besides art, really. I'd always wanted to go to school for it, but… I had to pay for it myself. My parents weren't exactly happy about my choices.” Henry explained, looking down into a glass of water. “What about you? Did you always want to build amusement parks?”

Bertrum considered the question, carefully swirling the wine in his glass. “Not exactly, no. I always entertained the idea of building something grand, but for a while, I worked construction to put myself through university. Most of my classes were aimed towards building… something. It simply turned out to be amusement parks. Roller coasters are some of the hardest rides to design, but to me, they're the most fun.” He smiled almost sheepishly.

“Fun to draw, too, actually.” Henry replied.

“That reminds me of something I wanted to ask you.” Bertrum adjusted himself to face Henry, setting his glass on the end table by the arm of the couch. “I have a business proposition for you.”

“Oh?” Henry tilted his head.

“I know I've asked you about slipping out from under Drew's thumb before, and I know how you feel about leaving. I've seen the real you, not the you that works day and night, breaking yourself for a short. You're passionate about what you do. You love your art, your characters. I think you deserve to be doing more with your skills, perhaps making a bit more money than you do now.”

“What are you saying?”

“I'm saying… What if I were to hire you out from under Drew? It wouldn't be hard for you to learn to draw blueprints, you already have a sharp enough mind for designing parks. I could use someone like you on my team, anyhow. Being the only creative mind behind such a large operation is… difficult. Now what do you say?”

At that point, Henry laughed. “I'd say, exactly how much have you had to drink?”

Bertrum rolled his eyes. “I'm serious. Your insight on Drew's park has helped immensely. Imagine if we could keep going, do more than just one park together. Imagine being able to put our work across the country, perhaps worldwide someday.” He slowly started to move closer to Henry, reaching for his hand.

“You know, that sounds just like what Joey told me…”

“The difference is, I'm not out for profit. For power. You would be my equal, and where I want you to work, you would be splitting the income with me, evenly.”

He carefully intertwined his fingers with Bertrum's, looking down at them. “Gosh, I don't know… What about my characters?”

“We can legally get them back from Drew, and then they're yours to do with what you will.”

Henry looked up then. “We could finish Bendyland. Then it would be your park, not his.”

“No,” Bertrum corrected, kissing Henry's lips. “Ours. Our creation.”

Henry couldn't stop himself from smiling, returning Bertrum’s kiss as best he could. “I'll admit, that does sound really nice… Deadlines wouldn't be as chaotic, I wouldn't have to worry as much.”

“Exactly. You can't live in fear anymore, what kind of life is that?” He wasn't aiming for an answer at all, and Henry knew. Though their lips weren't touching anymore, their foreheads were, Bertrum letting out a small, content sigh. Slowly, Bertrum stood from his spot, still holding Henry's hand. He gave it a gentle tug, asking the animator to stand without speaking. 

Henry followed, only raising a brow when Bertrum started to take him down the hallway farther. “So where are we going now?”

There was a brief silence from Bertrum. “Bed.” He answered simply, though it came out almost as a question. 

Ignoring the panic that started to bubble in his chest, Henry nodded slightly, his face growing warm. “O-oh… okay.” He did his best to sound cheery. Bertrum was not someone he was ready to say no to.

*****

Bertrum's bedroom was just as grand as the rest of the house. With a series of tall windows taking up one wall, it had a perfect view of the huge backyard, but in the dark, there was nothing to see. The white floor-length curtains were drawn for the night over most of them, anyhow. Centered against the wall across from the door, the bed took up much of the space, the dark frame and canopy that reached overhead a perfect contrast to the pale gray sheets that decorated it. Bertrum and Henry had seated themselves at the foot, Henry putting his weight on his right arm and holding Bertrum's cheek with his left. Bertrum had one hand on his side, which already had him shaking. Their lips were locked together in a slow kiss, only coming apart for a few short seconds to breathe. Gradually, though, Bertrum began to press a little harder, his free hand reaching for the buttons of Henry's shirt. He'd undone two in the middle when he pulled away from their continuous kiss, though not far. 

“May I…?” He requested softly.

Red from his ears to his neck, Henry seemed to consider the question, then nodded. Bertrum moved his hands away just for a moment so he could move to sit higher up on the bed. Henry did the same, unbuttoning his shirt without help by then. With the front hanging open, his bandages were clearly visible. Bertrum quickly slipped his own shirt off of his shoulders, letting it fall over the edge of the bed. 

Even in the lowlight, the definition of his muscles was very clear; Being a part of his own construction team as well as a designer really did pay off, it seemed. For a moment, all Henry could do was take in the sight of him, but only for a moment. Henry was back against his lips quickly, his palm against his chest while he shifted himself to practically be in Bertrum's lap. He was cautious of the large bruise painting one side of his ribs, as well as the one on his clavicle. Facing each other at a more forward angle, it was easy for Bertrum to slide his hands against Henry's shoulders, completely pulling his shirt off of his body. Both hesitated for a few seconds, seemingly unsure of what to do next and for Henry, at least, he was frozen out of fear.   
Bertrum cleared his throat, light pink dusting across his cheeks. “I, uhm…” He shook his head to push whatever thought he was about to share out of the way, reaching out to grip the edge of Henry's slacks. Once his fly was undone, Henry worked himself out of them, letting them drop off to the side of the bed with the rest of their clothes. By then, Henry was acutely aware of his heart hammering against his ribs. He wondered if it was possible to see his bandages moving with each beat.

At that moment, Bertrum went pale instead of blushing, leaning back on one hand and dragging the other down his face. “Henry, darling, I have to admit something to you, before we… before we go any farther.”

Henry sat back, tilting his head. He forced himself not to shake any harder, especially when a small wave of relief that they stopped hit him. “Is something wrong…?”

“Possibly… Possibly, yes, but it's… with me. Something may be wrong with me.” He refused to look Henry in the eyes. “I don't… want this. Before you panic, I promise, I love you. Truly, I love you with my whole heart, but this… being totally physically intimate? I… can't. I've never had an interest in it, a need for it. I thought perhaps being with you, out of all people, would change things, change me, but it hasn't. It isn't your fault, I swear. You're so perfect, and perfect for me, but that made no difference! It should have, but it hasn't, not yet…” His words, slowly, had become more and more frantic, tears filling his eyes. He nearly sobbed. “Something is wrong with me.”

Henry instantly had a hand on his cheek, wiping away the tears that began to fall. Seeing Bertrum in such a state was unthinkable to Henry. “Hey… Hey, no, you're alright… Bertrum, there's nothing wrong with you.” Henry shifted himself so he was sitting more to the side of Bertrum than on his hips. “It's okay if you don't want to now, or ever, if you don't change your mind. Everyone's different and that's more than okay with me.”

Bertrum dragged his teary eyes back to Henry's. “Are you sure? I don't want to disappoint you in any way, I was starting to think it was something you wanted to do tonight…”

“How would you disappoint me? All I want is you to be happy. And, well, if we're being honest… open… with each other about all this… There's something I need to say too.” Henry idly picked at the edge of the bandages at the top of his chest. 

“What is it?” Bertrum sat up a little straighter, calming himself.

Henry took a breath, gathering himself before he launched into a story- his story, part of which he was sure Bertrum had guessed already. He spoke about how since he was younger, he'd tried his best to be himself, but in turn, had to keep his past and the body he'd been stuck with a secret. He spoke of his struggle with his own image, and the discomfort he found in every day when he had to find something that looked right on him, that fit his bound chest. He explained the pain, both in his mind and in his bones that he felt for trying to look the way he did, and he explained how intensely aware of himself he was at every second. 

Finally, he came to their situation, what it was doing to him to be so exposed in his body and soul. “I got… really, really scared when you started trying to take my clothes off. I was scared you'd see what I really am and… not want me anymore, at all. I was too scared to stop you, either, you're just… I didn't want you to be upset with me. Truthfully, I didn't want to do this, it wasn't because of you. I don't think there's anything wrong with you for not feeling a need to make love with someone, and right now… that's more of a comfort to me than a disappointment. I don't have to be scared of you hating my body, not wanting to be with me because of it anymore. Right…?”

“What you really are…” Bertrum, then smiling, leaned over to him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Is Henry. To me, that is who you always were, and always will be, if that's what you want. I told you I would take you any way you are, yes?”

Henry nodded. 

“That is still true. I was afraid for myself, at first. Now I know you feel a similar way, and you can understand how I feel. I'm so sorry you had to struggle with who you are to be happy, but look at you now. You're a dazzlingly handsome man, with someone who loves you for everything you are and do. I wouldn't give that up for any reason.” His lips found Henry's again and they shared another long kiss. “I have just one question for you still.”

Henry tilted his head. “Yeah…?”

“Are you… in pain right now? Because of this.” With his eyes, Bertrum indicated Henry's bandages. “Are they hurting you?” 

Henry's silence gave him his answer. 

The designer's voice dropped low despite the fact that they were the only ones in the room. “Would you mind taking them off? I don't want to see you in pain, and it looks so restrictive. I understand if you won't, I simply wanted to ask.”

Henry looked down at himself, biting his lip. “You know… you're right. I can hardly breathe properly with them on, I've been wearing them since this morning.” As he undid the bandages and started to unwrap them, he glanced up at Bertrum. “I trust you. I seriously trust you.”

“And I you, my love.” Bertrum responded with a smile, making a point not to watch the animator's actions. “We were both so scared if disappointing each other, neither of us were going to even say anything.”

Henry gave a soft laugh. “I guess that just shows how much we care, in a really weird way…” 

“You may be right.” Bertrum pushed himself up far enough on the sheets to lay back against the pillows and Henry soon followed. He placed his head against Bertrum's chest, laying on his side with one arm wrapping around his waist just below the bruise. They both adjusted themselves until they were as comfortable as possible, Henry still trembling from the touch ever so slightly. Both men relaxed, alone in the peace and quiet, they let themselves drift off to sleep together for the first time.


	8. Small author's note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point in time, you can go ahead and skip this ^.^

I am a fool. An idiot. A goddamn buffoon. In an attempt to make my life easier, it appears that I totally flubbed up the load order of the chapters and it looks to be fixed now but I just don't know!

Edit on 7/19/19: This was posted in response to the fact that I had accidentally mixed up my chapters some while trying to post them. I was kinda distressed over it, but everything seems to be fine now and past me was probably overreacting


	9. Chapter Eight: Music-Making

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for anything in the story that now looks a little wonky, I was trying to do some editing and it really wasn't going so well so I tried to undo it. I've been using this site for so long, and yet I still barely know how to use it...  
> Oh, also a very slight cw for body horror? It's not bad at all, just thought I should mention it.

Once the studio was back to running normally again, it was already Thursday. Joey had evidently returned to work against doctor's orders, but he, like everyone else, was anxious to get back to work. Joey summoned Henry to his upstairs office almost immediately that morning.

As he stepped into the cramped room, Henry's heart was solidly lodged in his throat. He forced a neutral look onto his face, though. Joey sat behind his desk with a pen in his hand, scribbling notes on… something, Henry couldn't tell what. With his other hand, one wrapped completely in thick bandages, he gestured to the chair across from him.

Sitting down only gave the animator a better perspective on the extent of his injuries; Half of his face was an odd purple-yellow, the bruises trying their best to heal. From his eye down to his jaw on the right side, his skin had been dyed that almost sickly color. A gash across his cheek on the opposite side was still healing, but he obviously hadn't bothered dressing it. What really shocked- and to some degree, worried- him was the wheelchair Joey had been placed in. That, for the most part, was probably what was making him look so angry. 

“G'morning, Joey.” Henry tried hesitantly. 

“I hope you've enjoyed your time off, we're all going to have to make up for it around here.” Joey practically ignored his greeting, speaking through a scowl. Henry was able to see where he was missing a bottom tooth as he did. “You've got to start on the storyboard for the next short, the writers already have the script downstairs. That's all, just get going. Please.” The please he added as an afterthought.

Henry nodded, already standing from his seat. “Right away, I'll get that going.” He made his way to the door.  
“And Henry?” Joey stopped him just as he was about to close the door. Henry poked his head back in. “For the love of God… Stop seeing Bertie. He's dangerous. He'll end up hurting you, look at what he did to me.”

“If you say so, Mister Drew.” Henry accepted what he said, then shut the door. As he made his way to the writing department, he shook his head. Bertrum would never hurt him, that he was sure of.

*****

Saturday night, Henry stayed at Bertrum's house again. Bertrum had offered to visit with Henry instead, but the animator knew his run-down apartment would be nothing compared to where Bertrum lived. He made his way back home Sunday afternoon to take care of some housekeeping, and to make sure he had enough clean clothing for the upcoming week.  
When he got to his desk that Monday, almost exactly on time, Joey was already waiting for him. He'd parked his wheelchair right in front of Henry's chair, preventing him from getting to it. Henry stopped at the end of the hall, on edge.

“Good morning, Joey.” He greeted.

Joey slowly rolled the chair up to him, pushing him back against the wall and glaring. His bruises had already started to clear, but the gash on his cheek wasn't healing as well. “You. You need to stay away from Bertrum. Do you know what I'll do if you don't?”

“Dock my pay? Fire me? Out me? Honestly, Joey… your threats are… getting a little old.” Henry voiced. Of course he was still terrified of Joey, he didn’t want to show it.  
“You're distracting each other. Work isn't going as fast, and that's costing us some serious cash. Do you really want this whole place to go under because of you and your little game? Because you wanted to have a little ‘harmless’ fun?”

Henry took a moment to calculate his response. “Do you really expect me to believe that? If things are really so bad, you wouldn't be-”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Henry could see the shade of his boss's face change. His jaw clenched and the inside of his eyes caught fire. Before Henry even realized what was happening, Joey was up on his feet, wincing as he slammed his hands into the wall, one on either side of the animator's head. The man towered over him. “You have a job to do, Stein! And I'll be damned, if you won't do it, I'll make every aspect of your existence a living hell!” Joey roared, spit flying into Henry's face as he flinched. He hadn't even noticed the whites of Joey’s eyes beginning to darken. “I'm in charge here! What I say goes, no questions! No what if's! No maybe’s! This is my studio! My company! My animations! Behind the scenes, I own you! Do you understand me?! You and your work belong to-” 

Joey was suddenly interrupted by his own ragged, shuddering cough. He backed away, falling into his wheelchair as his body continued to seize. He pushed a hand over his mouth to muffle himself and the longer it went on, Henry realized he'd begun spitting up a thick black sludge. It seeped between his fingers and started to drip from his nose, also pooling in the corners of his eyes. 

All Henry could do was stare, horrified. “Joey-” 

“Leave!” Joey's strained voice commanded, prompting Henry to do so. He practically ran from the hall, past the exit and down the stairs to the music department. Only then, at the foot of them, did he stop for a moment. 

The first person to catch his eye was a violinist- he recalled her name being Ellie- standing by the door to the music hall, who waved. She made her way over to him with her instrument in her hand, frowning. “You look like you've seen a ghost, mister. You alright?”

Henry hadn't realized he'd gotten so pale. He swallowed and nodded. “I'll be fine, thank you, Ellie.” 

The curly chestnut hair resting on her shoulders moved as she shrugged. “If you say so. What brings you down here? Mister Lawrence and Mister Fain are in their office if you need ‘em.”

Henry figured that would be as good an excuse as any to be away from his desk for a few more minutes. “Are they? Thanks.”

“No problem!” She waved again as he moved off down the hall.

As he did, through the huge glass window in Sammy and Jack's office, Henry could see the music director pacing back and forth, clearly ranting about something. When he got up to it, he knocked on the glass. Sammy froze, glancing at him. Henry shifted to push the door open, taking a step inside. “Hey, how are things down here?”

“Could be better.” Sammy and Jack spoke in unison, throwing each other a look. Both groaned, Jack lifting his hat enough to push his hand through his frizzy hair.

“These demands are getting ridiculous! How are we supposed to have a full score in two months?! He’s fired half my orchestra! Without even consulting me, I might add.” Sammy explained. 

Jack turned to him, dark marks evident under his eyes. “I just don't understand the logic here. Does he know how writing music works?”

Henry crossed his arms and shook his head. “I'm not sure he knows how any of this works.”

“Amen to that.” Sammy scoffed.

“Is there anything I can do to help you guys?” The animator offered.

At first, Sammy shook his head. “You have your own assignments to worry about, I'm sure.”

“Actually…” Jack perked up. “You used to play piano, right? Think you could do one of these songs?”

“Well, I still sort of remember how to play… Can I see the keys?” Henry asked, looking to Sammy.

Sammy, knowing which one Jack referred to, picked a few papers out of the stacks on his desk. He held them out. “Here, it's fairly simple. We're still trying to teach one of the two bassoonists left to play piano, I'd appreciate your help.”

Henry took the papers, looking over them. “Hm… I'll take some time to practice on my lunch hour, if that's okay with you two, but it does look pretty easy.”

“Perfect.” Jack and Sammy spoke in unison again, glaring at each other with mock annoyance. 

“I'll see you then, Henry. Thank you for this.” Sammy clapped him on the shoulder, only briefly. 

“Yeah, of course! See you guys later.”

“Bye, Henry!” Jack raised a hand as a send off, his back already to Henry as he continued his work. 

Henry pulled the door closed behind him, figuring it had been long enough for Joey to compose himself. He was almost back to the stairs when a man walking out of the department “lounge” caught his attention. He recognized the man as a trombone player, but also one of their voice actors. “Oh, hi. Harry, right?” Henry asked.

“Nah, Harrison, actually. Mistah Drew insists on Harry.” Harrison spoke with the twinge of an accent Henry couldn't quite place. 

“Right, sorry. Is something wrong?” 

“Nah, Miss Susie was lookin’ for yah. C'mon.” Harrison gestured for Henry to follow him and disappeared back into the lounge. 

The room itself wasn't so much of a lounge, more like a small room with a beat up pool table and some crates stacked up in it. Leaning over said pool table lining up her shot was Susie, aiming a green ball towards a corner pocket. Two other musicians stood to the side, watching and talking quietly. Henry couldn’t for the life of him remember their names, though.  
“Uhm… Susie?” Henry tried to get her attention. 

She took her shot, which she’d evidently calculated perfectly. Then she stood up, turning to him. She offered a small smile. “Hi, Henry.” She moved to the other side of the room, away from the pool table, and Henry followed. “Look…” She made her voice soft, though the others weren't paying attention to them anyway. “I'm… sorry about the other day. The way I reacted to you… wasn't the best. I wasn't expecting it, especially from you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Henry raised a brow. 

“Well, look at you!” She indicated him as a whole with one hand. “You're adorable, I would think you'd have girls all over you, I never would've thought that's not the team you play for. But regardless of that, I'm sorry for how I acted. After what Joey did to you for it… I feel awful for letting it slip to him.”

Henry bit his lip. “Oh. You're the reason he knows…?”

“I am, and I'm so, so sorry. I had no idea he'd threaten you like he did, I…” Susie trailed off, unsure of what else to say.

“I guess it's… fine. All Joey wants is to blackmail me with it, I don't think he's really going to out me. Or, at least, I hope.”

“I hope, too. So… are we okay? You don't… hate me?”

Henry shook his head. “I don't think I'm able to hate anyone, really.”

“Oh, good.” Susie opened her arms for a hug and Henry accepted, though neither made it a very strong one. “I'll see you around, Henry.”

“Yeah, see you later, Miss Campbell.” He gave her a small smile and wave, exiting the room and going back to the stairs. Thankfully, that time, he was able to do so uninterrupted.

The hall to his desk was another story, though. He had nearly made it back to his workspace when he spotted a sandwich board, the letters “floor is wet” crudely painted on it. The sign wasn’t exactly blocking the space, it was plenty small to move past easily, but it brought a small smile to his face. As he came around the corner, he spoke. “Hi, Wally.”

The janitor paused to wave and grin, mop still held in his other hand. “Mornin’! Say, did ya spill?” He indicated the spots he’d mopped already with a tilt of his head. “Was pretty hard gettin’ the stuff up, is it a new brand?”

“Of ink?” Henry questioned, and Wally nodded. “No, it…” He glanced around, making sure no one else was within earshot. His voice dropped low. “It was Joey. I… I don’t really know what happened, he was talking to me and he started to get upset… and then he started to cough, and… This black gunk started coming out of his mouth.”

“Ya tellin’ me tha’ crazy bastard was coughin’ up tar? It looked like tar, there was a lot of it.” Wally matched his volume.

“I’m not sure what it really is, it started happening and he told me to leave, so I did. I wasn’t even sure he’d be gone by the time I got back here.”

“Huh. Y’know, he stays hea’ pretty late at night, I got the feelin’ he was up ta somethin’.”

“You don’t think he’s just sick?”

“Not a chance. Listen, Henry,” The janitor reached over to put a hand on his shoulder. “Stuff’s goin’ on hea’ tha’ you’ve got no idea about. Really, I shouldn’t even know, but I do! I got keys ta everywhea’, so Drew can’t keep secrets from me!”

Henry’s expression became concerned at the statement. “You know what Joey’s done lately, you really should be careful snooping around like that.”

Wally waved a dismissive hand. “Pff, I’m not snoopin’, I’m cleanin’! Drew wants this place spotless, I gotta get everywhea’!”

“Well… if you say so…” Henry still didn’t sound convinced. 

“I do! Hey, I’m gonna get outta hea’ and let ya do ya work, looks like Drew left somethin’ on ya desk.” As he spoke, Wally stuck his mop back into a water bucket on wheels, starting to move off. “Lata, Henry!”

Henry gave a small wave to his back, then shifted his attention to his desk, where a thick packet awaited him. He could see already that they were his sketches- some he’d never given to Joey, he noted- and they were covered in red chicken scratch. He sighed, taking his seat.


	10. Chapter Nine: Orchestra

Henry went home on time the first day he received Joey’s feedback, though it did take him a majority of his time to sort through it all and make the proper corrections. By early the next afternoon, he had been brought the Joey-approved script for the next short by a nervous-looking writer who refused to speak. Despite the interaction, it meant the animator could finally start setting up to get the next one done. Right on top of the packet was a note from Joey himself addressed to Henry, telling him that all of that day’s work was to be brought to his office and left on his desk. This struck Henry as odd more than anything. It wasn’t something Joey usually asked of him, but considering the amount of “corrections” on everything lately, it seemed to fit right in. He shrugged it off and got to work.

*****

Around two, Henry caught the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the hall towards him, turning just in time to see a tired-looking Bertrum rounding the corner. When the man saw Henry, though, he smiled and shuffled closer.

“I can’t stay long.” He voiced, leaning down to briefly put his arms around Henry’s shoulders. “There’s been complications with some of my designs I have yet to figure out, but I will.”  
Henry hummed slightly, leaning back into him. “What happened?”

“Simple malfunctions proving to be… not so simple. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was sabotage.” Bertrum sighed. “If it weren’t for you, I would have abandoned this job by now. I can find much more cooperative clients incredibly quickly.”

Henry’s eyebrows came together. “You mean I’m holding you back…?”

“Heavens, no!” Bertrum shifted so his hands were resting on Henry’s shoulders, gently squeezing. “All I mean is, I really do want you to work with me. I thought that perhaps once I finished this hellish job, I would be able to really talk you into it.”

“Trust me, your offer is more and more tempting every day. Look at this!” He gestured to the script he’d been working with. “I got sketches back yesterday that looked just like that.”

Skimming over all the red markings, Bertrum nodded. “I did as well. I’ve begun simply ignoring Drew’s comments altogether, they only complicate what I’m trying to do.” There was a moment of quiet between the two. “He’s the one ruining my work, isn’t he?”

Henry started to nod slowly. “More than likely…”

Bertrum chuckled. “My hatred for that man grows exponentially with each passing day.” His hands left Henry’s shoulders and he bent to press a very light kiss to his cheek. “I hope to see you more soon.”

Henry smiled as he was kissed, nodding. “I hope so, too.” Bertrum left then, giving Henry the chance to zone back out and into his drawings.

After working through around half of his script, he sat back in his chair, setting his pen down to flex his fingers. Taking a deep breath, he stood, hardly noticing that his back popped repeatedly as he did so. He stretched and sighed, then started towards the break room. It was only as he was thinking of making a pot of coffee that he saw the time, blinking at the clock. It didn’t feel like it was already past five. Shrugging, he went to the timeclock and punched himself out, then went back upstairs. 

Back at his desk, he thumbed through all of the storyboards he’d worked on, making sure they were in the proper order. He nodded to himself approvingly, pushed his chair in, and made his way to Joey’s office as instructed.

The room was dark when he got there, and felt like it hadn’t been left open in a long time. There were papers scattered all over Joey’s desk with some on the floor, checklists of some kind that Henry didn’t bother to read. Around where his chair would normally be, Joey had set up several cork boards on rollers much like the ones down in Bertrum’s workspace. Instead of being covered in blueprints, however, Joey’s were taken up by more lists Henry didn’t feel he should read in detail. The names of many staff members were written in large black print, making them hard to miss at just a glance and in a few places, Joey had even pinned small pictures of some other staff. From what Henry could tell, they were the voice actors and actresses the boss had been sent headshots of before they were hired. A chill went up the animator’s spine when he saw them and he suddenly got the urge to leave. He set his drawings in the middle of Joey’s desk and exited the office, closing the door tightly behind him.

*****

By Wednesday morning, Henry had nearly forgotten about the scene in Joey’s office already. It only came back as a faint memory when he saw the storyboards marked in red on his desk. He let out a sigh as he sat down to look them over, but seeing a few marked with a check mark instead of a million comments made him smile. The animator set aside the note telling him to leave the boards in Joey’s office for the night again, looking through the rest. Many of the other remarks Joey had made to his work he wrote off as something that could be fixed in the final product.

The only time Henry broke himself away from his drawing was around noon, when he went to the break room for a cup of coffee to keep him going. It was there that he spotted the same nervous writer that had given him the script playing darts by himself. He gave Henry a glance and moved his chair out of the way to the counter, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge him at first.

It was as Henry was about to leave that the writer spoke up, bearing a very similar accent to Wally. “Hey, Mister Stein? Has… Mister Drew been as hard on you as he has us?” His tone told Henry he was obviously uncomfortable asking.

Henry raised an eyebrow, turning to the man. “What, with his comments? You’ve got no idea…”

“We can hardly get anything done, he cuts the scripts down so much that… I don’t think they’re any good. I snuck four or five pages in that one I gave you the other day.” He finished his sentence by throwing a dart, hitting near the middle of the target.

“No, I get it. He’s been practically doing the same thing to the storyboards, he doesn’t like me putting so much detail into the shorts… That’s not what I signed up to do.” 

Me neither. I put in my two-week notice the other day, I was told to take it right down to accounting so I’d get taken off the payroll. Otherwise Mister Drew would just throw it out.”

“He won’t let people quit? That’s… Wow. And he’s just going around threatening to fire people, what does he expect?” Henry shook his head, sipping his coffee.

“I dunno, but I’m getting out of here as soon as I can and I were you, I’d do the same thing. You’ve got skill, you could work for Disney.”

Henry hummed slightly. “Yeah, I hear you…”

“That’s great, ‘cause no one else seems to!” He threw the last dart, turning to Henry. “I appreciate you talking with me, Mister Stein, but I don’t wanna keep you that long.”

“Of course. Now, I’m sorry, my memory isn’t the best, what’s your name?”

“At least you’re asking, I’m Louis. Good luck with Mister Drew.”

“Thanks, you too.” Henry offered him a smile, then made his way up the stairs again, ready to settle in for a long drawing session.

*****

“I can't believe Joey would pull this shit! And right now?! Right before a deadline? Are you kidding me?!” The voice of Sammy Lawrence bounced down the hall the next night as he and Jack approached Henry's desk, causing the animator to turn and look, confused.

“What's going on?” He questioned, pen still in hand. 

“Drew fired half the band!” Sammy snapped. Jack put a hand on his arm, patting it. 

“Wait, didn't he to that a while ago?” Henry tilted his head.

“Oh, no. No, I don't mean that. He fired half of the half that was left! As if we can spare any musicians, we were barely making it work as it was!” Sammy's face started to turn red as he kept speaking. 

“I have to admit, it's pretty strange he didn't even give us a notice. Almost nobody showed up this morning, then Joey came in and said that he had to make some cuts. That's it. No ‘I’ll put notice out soon’, or ‘sorry for the inconvenience’.” Jack explained.

“I can't tell you how badly I want to shove his wheelchair down the stairs. He can't keep doing this! We don't have a music department anymore! Six people can’t make an entire score!” Sammy threw his hands up in the air, a snarl pulling at his lips. 

“Sam, take it easy. Yelling about it won’t change the mind of someone that isn’t listening.” Jack reasoned, causing the director to nod.

“I know, I know. Look, Henry, I know you’re probably swamped with work as it is, but… Please, just for an hour, come help us get at least your piano part recorded. That way me, Jack and whoever else is left have an easier time getting this done.”

Henry bit his lip. “Won’t that make things harder, having to put audio tracks together?”

“Polk’s pretty good at what he does, I’m sure he can handle it. If, you know, he’s still around.” The lyricist shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. 

“You don’t honestly think Joey would get rid of our only projectionist, do you?” Sammy scoffed.

“I dunno, he got rid of our last janitor.” The remark caused both the animator and the music director to give him quizzical looks. “I figured you two knew. Wally hasn’t been around in a few days, nobody’s seen him since Monday. I didn’t think he was being paid enough to make a difference, but seems like Joey went and canned him anyway.”

“Are things really so bad here he had to fire the cleaning staff…?” Henry asked.

“And yet he’s got an amusement park being built in the basement. Just perfect.” Sammy rolled his eyes, then gestured to Henry. “You can see why we need you now more than ever, we have no idea who’s going to be next. Knowing Joey, I wouldn’t be surprised if he cut you and tried to make the cartoons himself.”

“At this point, it wouldn’t shock me, either. I’ve… actually already had Bertrum offer to hire me for his team so I wouldn’t have to work here. Every day, I’m more and more tempted to take it.” Henry placed his pen down, standing.

“I’ve been considering quitting lately myself. Nothing here is stable, especially since it’s pretty clear now no one’s safe from Joey’s wrath.” Jack glanced up at both other men as they started back down the hall. 

“I feel the same, I just didn’t want to leave you here alone.” Sammy returns the look. “We could always team up. You know, permanently. If anyone were to hire us, make it a package deal.”

“You know, I don’t think that’s such a bad idea, Sam.” Jack beamed. 

“Maybe it is time to move on…” Henry started to muse. “I don’t know if either of you are aware of what’s been going on with me and Joey, but it’s getting to be too much. I feel like he might… seriously hurt me someday.” He admitted.

Sammy shook his head. “That’s just not right. You’re supposed to be partners. Equals. I heard he threatened you, I don’t even know if that’s legal.”

“Shouldn’t be, anyway.” Jack added. 

The three walked in silence for a while, until they’re nearly to the steps to the music department. “Say, Henry…” Sammy began. “Do you sing? Joey fired the lower-register vocalist, if we can get that recorded today too…”

Henry shook his own head slightly, frowning. “I don’t really sing, no… I don’t have the right kind of voice for it.”

“Damn. That’s a shame Jack, you might have to do it yourself.” Sammy lightly nudged the shorter man.

“Hm… Maybe not. I think I know somebody that may work for us. I’ll run and see if I can pull him away from his work for a few seconds.” Jack shuffled off ahead of them, clearly on a mission of some kind.

*****

When Jack rejoined the animator and the director on the orchestra floor, he had indeed managed to drag someone with him, somewhat literally. He held the worried-looking man by the wrist, pulling him along behind him with a smile on his face. 

“I got him! It took some convincing, but I’ve got our temporary vocalist!” Jack exclaims.

“W- vocalist? That’s what this is about? You said it was an emergency, I told you I don’t like singing.” The other man tried to argue. He stood shorter than Jack only by a few inches, but that made the deep voice he produced that much more shocking. His red-brown hair looked as though he’d attempted to slick it back, but instead, it stood out in every direction. From where he was sitting at the piano, Henry could see his blue button-up was half untucked from his slacks, one of his suspenders hanging off of his shoulder. His glasses balanced on the end of his nose. It looked like he hadn’t slept in a week and the longer Henry looked at him, the easier it was to see that he was shaking all over. 

Jack clapped him on the shoulder. “This is an emergency! We have exactly six people left working for us and no singers. Well, we have Susie, of course, but we need a different kind of voice right now. That’s where you come in, Cohen!”

The other man jumped hard at the action. “W-wait, why so few? What happened?”

“Fired or quit, I suppose. Leaning more towards them being fired.” Sammy interjects from behind a music stand, a violin in his hands. 

“That… isn’t right. That’s my department, if they got fired, I’d be the first to know. I give out the pink slips.” The sentence is directed to Jack. 

“Well, regardless of what’s going on, right now we have six people to work with. Come on over here and I’ll get you the lyrics. You’ll only have the piano to go by. Can you read sheet music?” As the lyricist explained, he lead Cohen to the alcove by the piano where a microphone hung from the ceiling. 

“I… think so. I haven’t had to since I was maybe seven.” He answers.

“It’s okay, I haven’t either. If you need help, I’ll show you.” Henry offers.

“Uh, thanks. I don’t believe we’ve met?” Cohen offers his hand for Henry to shake.

Henry takes it, giving it a few solid shakes. Cohen is, indeed, trembling all over. “Henry, hi.”

“Oh, hello. Right, you’re the one with the difficult paychecks. You’re in animation. By yourself, right…? You can just call me Grant.” Grant attempted to offer a smile.

“Oh…” Henry laughed awkwardly. “I’ve… been fighting with Joey lately, I guess my pay’s reflecting that, isn’t it?”

“Just a little, not bad… Er, not too bad, really.” His smile turned to a slight wince. It was then that Jack handed him a few papers.

“Sorry to interrupt fellas, but here’s the lyrics. We’ll run through the instrumental once for you to follow along, second time through, you'll jump in.” He turned to address the room. “Ready?!” His enthusiasm earned a few half-hearted cheers from the other musicians gathered, then the music kicked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, my chapter titles are the awful, and they just keep getting worse as I keep writing... It's not like they matter much anyway!

**Author's Note:**

> (As sort of a side note to this, I'd like to say that I do accept prompts? There's no guarantee that I'll do them because motivation is a very hard thing to find, but I'd still love some)


End file.
